


Sea Salt and Flowers

by Doveheart



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F, Kinda?, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6309274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doveheart/pseuds/Doveheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With malms and malms between them, Yda finds herself thinking about Y'shtola. </p>
<p>Fill for the kinkmeme. Request was 'Yda/Y'shtola, linkshell fun'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sea Salt and Flowers

It is late and Yda grows tired of counting stars. She has named all the constellations she can remember but it is scarcely any closer for her to wake Papalymo so that they can switch. It's a dangerous part of the Shroud and so they take turns keeping watch, but nothing interesting ever happens this late. Yda finds herself wondering about Y'shtola, all the way on the other side of Eorzea. She wonders if Y'shtola thinks about her too. She picks a blade of grass. Y'shtola always smells like salt water and flowers. The perfect combination of the Twelveswood and La Noscea, Yda thinks. She missed it. She misses Y'shtola. A pause as she ties a knot in the blade of grass and then, almost shyly, Yda places her hand to her linkshell. It beeps as it connects and Yda fidgets.

Then, “This is Y'shtola.”

“You're awake!”

“Yda? Is everything alright?”

She laughs, falling back into the grass, arms spread, “Yes! I just...I missed you!”

Y'shtola smiles slightly as she sits down on a small rock, “I've missed you also.”

There is a pause. Yda wants to ask a ton of questions. How has she been? Is her mission going well? Why is she awake? Her thoughts are moving so fast that the only question that comes out is, “What are you wearing?”

Y'shtola is taken back by the question, “Are you—”

Yda interrupts, “Look, I read about this in a book once. Is it your normal tabard? Those ugly shoes?”

“I highly doubt this is how you do it.”

Yda pouts, “Humor me.”

A small chuckle, “Fine. Yes. I'm wearing my same outfit.”

“Take it off.”

Y'shtola has to hold back a laugh, “Yda, darling. You have to take it slow,” she breaks to let the words sink in, but not long enough for Yda to interrupt again, “Are you still wearing those gaudy red boots of yours?”

Yda nods, but upon realizing Y'shtola can't see, she replies quickly, “Yeah, of course!”

“Please remove them for me, Yda.”

She does as she's told, fumbling and bit and Y'shtola can hear the clanking of metal. Then she can hear Yda's voice again, “Okay. Now what?” Yda keeps her voice low but there is a clear tone of excitement in it.

Y'shtola relaxes, leaning back and closing her eyes, “Run your fingers across your skin — slowly. Trace the curve your leg, up to the hem of those accursedly short shorts of yours. Then...stop,” Y'shtola pauses to listen to Yda's breathing. It's a quiet sigh pushed past her lips. Y'shtola smiles, nearly a smirk. “Take off your mask, your turban, and let your hair down, darling. Let me just...imagine you. Face bare and flustered like you are right after I kiss you.”

Y'shtola can hear Yda swallow and the linkshell picks up muffled rustling as she removes her headpiece. Yda leans back against the grass and she has goosebumps. She lets her brush against her own breast; her eyes closing.

“'Shtola...” She mumbles.

“Are you touching yourself already, Yda?” Y'shtola taunts and Yda's face burns.

“I miss you...” Yda deflects the question, turning her head to the side. She can practically hear Y'shtola smile.

“Let me hear how much you miss me then...” Y'shtola muses and her own hands are tracing designs down her side before darting under her shirt and across her ribs. She shivers.

Yda lets out a breathy laugh and her hand slips under her top. She moves her hand over her breast quickly, her breath hitching. She pinches and tugs at her nipple until it is hard, each action accompanied by a gasp or soft moan. Y'shtola's tail twitches and she knows exactly what Yda is doing just based on her sounds. Yda had always been the vocal one and Y'shtola would be lying if she said the sounds weren't intoxicating. She mimics the actions she knows Yda's doing, her own hand rolling her nipple between her fingers softly.

Y'shtola loses herself in Yda's voice and finds herself growing impatient quickly. She moves her hand down her stomach and slips it into her pants and between her legs. At first, she is simply content just stoking her outer lips slowly in time to Yda's moans but soon she parts them to rub her clit. Y'shtola lets out a sharp hiss, rolling her hips into her own hand. She misses Yda more than she likes to admit.

“'Shtola, are you getting ahead of yourself?” Yda whispers, her voice husky.

“I took you for a woman of action, Yda; not one to waste time with teasing.”

Yda laughs and she shoves her own hand into her pants to match her lover, “Oh? But just what are you thinking of that has got you all anxious for action?” She is panting, fingers finding her clit and drawing circles around it.

“ _You_...just you...” Y'shtola purrs, her voice throaty and, oh, how Yda loves it when she gets like this.

“Keep talking...” Yda groans, her hips quivering. She pushes a finger inside of herself, thrusting it in and out of slowly.

“Your voice and your lips... Gods, your lips...” She lets her fingers enter her, thumb against her clit and hips titled up. She's lightheaded and all she can think about is Yda. She can hear Yda panting in her ear and she knows they're both close. She moves her hand faster, her free hand reaching up to grope her breast. Her nipples are hard and her thighs shake. She can barely hear herself over Yda but she does manage to slip the hyur's name in between her own moans. Yda responds to it just as Y'shtola knew she would — with a loud, desperate whine.

“I'm close, 'Shtola...” Yda's voice is horse and her words rushed. She is panting, adding another finger to her tight cunt. Y'shtola nods even though she knows Yda can't see it. She speeds up her hand, her thumb roughly pressed against her clit. A shudder wracks her body.

“Come for me, darling,” Y'shtola whispers.

Yda lets out a low groan and her body shakes. Y'shtola bites her lip, trying to drown out her own voice so that she can hear Yda more. She comes quickly after Yda, feeling herself clench around her fingers. It is silent for a long while aside from their shallow gasping breaths. Y'shtola pulls herself together first, as always and straightens her clothes.

“Yda,” she starts but then she can hear Yda jerk up into a sitting position.

“I'll be in Limsa tomorrow night. Meet me at the inn.”

Y'shtola blinks, a slow smile appearing on her lips, “Of course. But how are you going to get here.”

A pause and there is some sort of commotion in the background before Yda finally replies, “I, uh, woke Papalymo up. He's bringing me there.”

Y'shtola's ears fall and her face flusters, “ _H-he heard_?”

“I'll see you tomorrow! I love you!”

Y'shtola would scold her tomorrow but she knows Papalymo will already have that covered. She sighs, still smiling. Yda will never change and she doesn't want her to, “Good night, Yda. I love you also.”

 

 


End file.
